Bruises
by Giantpanda
Summary: Shannon remembers why the French on the maps is so familiar and must decide if she wants to risk telling Sayid.


TITLE: Unseen Bruises  
RATING: PG  
SUMMARY: Shannon remembers why the French on the maps is so familiar and must decide if she wants to risk telling Sayid.  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters from Lost and am not making a profit. If they were mine, then there would be more Shayid moments.

Though the sea breeze was chilly, Shannon remained on the beach to watch the sun set.How often had she watched a setting sun against the backdrop of the waves? This time was different. She just didn't know how. She drew her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them. Her pink shawl tickled her legs as the soft fabric draped over her skin.

She'd been sitting here for so long trying to remember why the French on Sayid's maps had looked familiar. She wanted to prove to him that she could to it, that she wasn't useless. Now she finally remembered why the French looked so familiar. How could she have forgotten that fish movie? It was pretty good for a cartoon. At least it was the first three times, maybe even four times. But when she could quote it, she knew that meant she'd seen it too many times.

Now all she had to do was figure out what to do with that information. Would Sayid care? Would it even help him? It would probably be best for her to just forget all about it, allow the dumb song to fade back into her memory. Sayid was probably done with her anyway. He knew he'd made a mistake asking her to help. It was all his fault anyway. She had tried to warn him. She guessed she didn't do a good enough job.

It was difficult to tell someone why they should just go away. Shannon had years of practice pushing people away. It was the only way she could stop from being thrown away first. She must have been losing her touch. Normally she would have been able to send a guy a "get the hell away" glare and they'd never bother her again. It had worked with Charlie and sometimes worked on Boone. But not Sayid. He had kept pestering her over and over again for help with the maps, confident that her French was much better then she would admit. For a moment she wondered if he really wanted to spend time with her. But she quickly dismissed the thought. No one wanted to spend time with her. No one wanted the ice cold bitch. Especially not one who was damaged inside.

How many times had she heard that she was worthless, useless or unlovable? She had fought for a while against those ugly names. But soon gave up. Everyone couldn't be lying to her. Especially not her own family – her stepmother, Boone, her ex-husband, everyone close to her. _At first each cruel word had felt like a stab; now they just bruised, and she ignored the dull pain._

Sayid had changed that, if only for an instant. He came to her. Asked her for help. Sure, she may be the only one on the island who spoke French. But he could have just given up. He could have begged for someone else to remember the little French skills they had from high school. But he still asked her. She didn't understand why.

The way he had watched her work. The way he seemed interested in her answers. Something was wrong there. No one ever acted that way towards her. Ever. He made her feel good. Made her feel like he could see all her damage and didn't care. Maybe he had his own to deal with. Made her feel like she could actually do this, whatever this was. Of course his look soon turned to annoyance. That was more like what she was used to. Another blow to an already bruised soul.

Deep down she knew that he hadn't really been annoyed with her. Maybe her lack of French skills, which in her defense, she had warned him about. Maybe he was just frustrated that the maps weren't helpful.

Maybe that was why she knew that she'd tell him about the song. She stood slowly, wiping the sand from her shorts. Maybe she just wanted one person on this island not to see her as a useless waste of space. Another mouth to feed, who did nothing to help the group. A song wouldn't be much, but maybe she could heal herself somehow through Sayid. One French word at a time. If he were nice to her, maybe she'd even sing it for him. She was sure it wouldn't happen. She rarely sang in public.

She took a shaky breath. Would this be worth it? Would trying to make a friend end with another bruise on her heart?

The end.


End file.
